


Bloody Hell

by Thilbo



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fili and Kili are forever up to no good, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Thorin and Bilbo are cockblocking each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thilbo/pseuds/Thilbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin and Bilbo have played this blasted game of "will they or will they not" for far too long and it has gotten to the point where Thorin just wants to grab Bilbo and strap him to his bed, to make the hobbit see how much he was affecting the dwarf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Hell

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my own rendition of the scene where Gandalf finds and scolds Merry and Pippin for fooling around with the fireworks. Except, in place of Gandalf is Bilbo and in place of Merry and Pippin is Fili and Kili. Also, this is my birthday gift to Dayne darling since the only thing I can offer to people are otp feels and fail writing. Happy birthday bb :")

“Bloody hell!” Bilbo exclaims as he marches down the patio stairs, his hairy feet carrying him faster than possible, his little body bypassing and dodging the numerous guests who ranged from the plain ol’ hobbits from the Shire to the dwarfs from Thorin & Company to humans from Laketown to even a handful of elves that Bilbo had met on his journey years ago.

And as such, it was the third year anniversary since Bilbo had returned to the Shire and as well as the anniversary of the dwarves getting their home back, leading to delightful years of peace and happiness from both ends. And for Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit who has more love towards parties and drinking above all else, there was no better way to celebrate such wonderful fortune than to hold a festival right here in Shire, hosted by yours truly because no one can party like a hobbit.

In fact, the idea was set in motion the very second he returned home, his mind reeling in the idea of all the eating and drinking and smoking and just having fun. And although no one really wanted a big party to celebrate annually, Bilbo was easily able to convince everyone to come and join him because it was the least he deserved since you know, he practically put his life on the line to help the dwarves get theirs back. And just like that, the pity card did its magic as it was more than enough to get everyone to gather every year.

Except, during the early stages of planning, Bilbo did not take into the account the amount of babysitting and trouble he would have to put up with since troublemakers were bound to be at every single party he hosted. And this one was no different as he eyed the dark-haired young dwarf down the grassy path, his gaze every now and then taking in the sight of his guests laughing, drinking ale, and sharing stories of adventures.

Bilbo quickly greets and smiles towards two of his guests before he continues his fuming march down the path and towards the dwarf near the lake with two bright objects glinting in his hands. Bilbo closes in on the young dwarf and lets out a put out sigh. “Put those firecrackers down this instant, Kili!”

“Mister Boggins! W-What brings you here?” Kili asks in alarm as he quickly and lamely pulls the two small crackers behind his back, a hesitant smile on his lips as he tries to downplay his act, as if he wasn't about to launch two of the smallest but strongest crackers into the sky like the fool he was. In fact, he would easily put the fools of Took to shame and that was quite a feat itself.

“What am I doing here?!” Bilbo incredulously asks as he places his hands on his hips, his eyes boring holes into the young prince’s as he slowly takes a step forward, his lips drawn thin, his brows creased in displeasure. “How many times have I told you since your arrival that you are not to touch the firecrackers? That these are to be left alone?”

“But it’s a festival! Crackers are made to be touched and blown up!” Kili refutes with excitement at the thought of blowing things up, his body shrilling with restless jitters and the need to wreak havoc, recklessly and gleefully. Bilbo wearily eyes the naïve dwarf and exhales a deep sigh before glaring the young prince down.

“That may be so but Gandalf is the only who gets to blow up anything around here. It’s too dangerous for you to be playing with those. Now hand them over.” Bilbo tiredly says as he holds his hand out while the other firmly stays on his hips, his whole demeanor reduced to that of a mother scolding her child. “Come on then. Give them to me.”

“But Mister Boggins!” Kili starts before a hand cuffs him on his head from the back, making the dwarf turn around sharply in anger, his whole being ready to bury the perpetrator into the ground for even daring to hit a prince before he freezes right up, his eyes taking in the tall, broad, and displeased figure of the King of Erebor. “Uncle.”

“We have not even been here for more than a few hours and you are already causing trouble.” Thorin resignedly says as he eyes his youngest nephew, the little twat still hiding the two crackers behind his back, a nervous glint in those mischievous eyes. Thorin crosses his arms across his chest and nudges his head towards the little hobbit who looked just as resigned as the King himself, a common occurrence whenever Kili was involved. “Give him the crackers. _Now_.”

Kili throws a pitiful glance at both his uncle and their ex-burglar with a small pout before he sighs and hands over both crackers, his hand tightly latching onto one when Bilbo tries to take it from him. Thorin cuffs him on the head once more before he releases it, pitifully eyeing it before he turns around and stumbles away, muttering things like “joy kills” and “blow each other then why don’t you” under his breath.

“My apologies for his thick-headedness.” Thorin says as he turns around and watches Bilbo place the crackers back into their crates, his little hobbit hands tightly latching the lid.

“Oh forget the apologies. I am just grateful I was able to stop him before it got too bad. Just imagine if he actually lit the crackers! This whole tent full of them would fly up into the sky itself!” Bilbo exclaims in dread with his hands flapping by his side to emphasize his point, his cheeks flushed from all the power walking and cajoling towards Kili. The little hobbit huffs a deep sigh in sheer relief before turning around and locking the rest of the crackers.

“At least it was not as horrible as last year.” Thorin says in memory as he steps forward and eyes the crates, one of his hands reaching out and locking it, his hands reaching for the next two as well. He nearly shudders at the thought of how close Fili and Kili had come to blowing up Bilbo’s hobbit hole when they attempted to make desserts for everybody. “You would think that after coming age, they would mature.”

“Ha! I doubt age has much to do with it.” Bilbo says as he easily and mechanically ducks under Thorin’s arm to lock the last crate, his back slightly plastered against Thorin’s front. “When I was of age, I was just as reckless if not more. I would drive my mother up the walls and my father would slam his head against them in sheer weariness.”

“I do not doubt that even for a second.” Thorin teases with a small smile as he watches Bilbo tie the latches over his shoulder, his body unthinkingly stepping forward as he pins Bilbo between his body and the crate, his right hand coming up to hold Bilbo’s as he helps the hobbit tighten the latch.

“And do not even start me on the _‘amazing ideas’_ I had come up with to rid myself of boredom, which let me tell you, was quite often. It is truly a miracle that I did not get myself killed. Or others for that matter.” Bilbo says on autopilot as he narrates all his childish and foolish antics while growing up, a small laugh here when he recalls a specific story and a snort there when he recalls how idiotic he was, thinking he was king of the world merely because he was young.

Thorin merely hums in reply as he lets the warmth of the hobbit surround him, his gaze falling on the cool night air, gentle and fresh, the hobbit’s voice a soft lull to him before Thorin notices their proximity, how his whole front plastered to the hobbit's back and how tightly their hands were linked.

“So really, Kili is mild compared to me. But sometimes I wish he would just stop for a second and think before—” Bilbo cuts off midsentence as his mind finally catches up with his body and how a warm heat lined his back; a heat that was abnormally close, hard, and familiar.

He slowly turns his head to the left, Thorin’s sharp and dark face coming into view, his face just as frozen and stunned as Bilbo’s as the two watch each other out of the corners of their eyes. Neither move nor make a sound, the resonances of the music and laughter and clinking of ale cups ringing loudly and clearly over the hobbit and dwarf, their gazes tightly but cautiously holding each other, Thorin’s orbs dropping down to Bilbo’s lips every now and then.

In fact, Thorin does not even bother to remove his hand from Bilbo’s nor widen the gap between their bodies because damned it all to Mordor and back, instances like these have happened far too often and far too many times. Thorin and Bilbo have played this blasted game of ‘will they or will they not’ for far too long and it has gotten to the point where Thorin just wants to grab Bilbo and strap him to his bed, to make the hobbit see just how much he was affecting the dwarf.

So indeed, Thorin will be damned if he feigns innocence like all the other times when he and Bilbo found each other in a proximity that was far too close for friends; both pretending that the strained and aching aura in the air was not because the two desired each other, or that they secretly stole glances at one another during dinners, or that they would sit together for hours at smoking sessions, not talking, not laughing but just enjoying each other’s silent company.

He’ll be damned indeed because Bilbo is _right here_ , right under him, his warmth a gentle caress, his body perfectly aligned to Thorin’s as if it was solely _made_ for Thorin. And his hands! Oh his ridiculously short and small hands that seamlessly slotted into Thorin’s, his skin and fingers smooth compared to Thorin’s much rougher and scarred ones.

The very hands of the hobbit that had foolishly yet bravely saved Thorin over and over before Thorin lost count, his life becoming this fragile entity that was almost literally in the hands of Bilbo for a short period of time. A point in time that belatedly made Thorin realize just how much he had taken the small hobbit for granted and how he had failed to see the good qualities in him. Qualities like how ferocious of a warrior he was, or how cunning of a burglar he was, or how beautiful of a hobbit he was, or  how Bilbo was right here and how foolish Thorin will be if he does not make the hobbit his tonight.

“We have played and avoided each other for far too long, Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin says, his voice a soft whisper that cuts through their silent gazing, the loud echoes of the party long forgotten as everything drowns out. Everything but their breathing that is amplified tenfold when Thorin’s gaze indiscreetly lingeres on Bilbo’s lips, the hobbit unintentionally licking them, Thorin’s gaze strictly following the movement. “No more avoiding and no more running.” Thorin says as he grips Bilbo’s hand tightly before he laces his fingers through them, his other hand slowly but surely caressing its way up Bilbo’s hips and waist before snaking it around his stomach, a soft gasp escaping Bilbo’s lips as he pulls the hobbit flush against his front.

He leans down and buries his face in the hobbit’s nape that reeked of familiar warmth and sheer hobbit aroma; earthy, grassy, and wholesome. Bilbo’s breath hitches for a mere second at the contact, Thorin’s lips sensitive on his nape, his body trembling in elation and gaiety before he relaxes into the embrace.

“No more.” Thorin lowly and softly mutters once more as he wraps his whole being around the hobbit’s, Bilbo’s free hand automatically coming up to grip Thorin’s arms, his small fingers caressing the hairy and scarred skin of the dwarf King, a fluttering of all kinds of warmth spreading across his chest, the very one that housed his erratically beating heart.

Bilbo closes his eyes and leans back into Thorin’s arms because truly, he could not go anywhere even if he wanted to; the dwarf was coiled around him like a vise. He drops his head down against Thorin’s shoulder and draws endless loops all over his arm, making the dwarf tighten his hold on the hobbit, his possessiveness not even discreetly subtle as he hums in contentment onto Bilbo’s skin, a smile spreading on Bilbo’s lips as he lightly slaps Thorin’s arms.

“About blasted time you made a move.” Bilbo whispers as Thorin raises his face upwards, his dark orbs and heavy brows falling on the hobbit in confusion for a second before a smile of his own tugs on his lips, his fingers caressing Bilbo’s stomach, resulting a hitch in the hobbit's breathing before speaking. “I told myself this morning that if Thorin Oakenshield did nothing today, I was going to drag him to my hobbit hole and show him precisely what he would be missing.” Bilbo lewdly whispers with a gaping smile as he grins up at Thorin’s amused face, the two holding each other’s gaze before a loud “ _BOOM!_ ” fires off in the distance and up into the sky.  

The two snap their heads in the direction of the noise and are not the least bit surprised to see the last sparks of a firework disperse into the sky, a loud whooping and hollering following shortly after in the distance. Thorin looks down at Bilbo the exact moment Bilbo looks up at Thorin, the same fear and weariness evident in their orbs.

“Fili.” Bilbo knowingly and tiredly whispers as he untangles himself from Thorin’s arms, his little body marching its way down the path, Thorin following right on his heels, his hands aching to pummel both of his dear, dear nephews into the ground because damn it, he finally got the hobbit to be his. Bilbo is finally his and he cannot even get five minutes of alone time with him. Thorin interanlly growls his displeasure before Bilbo's fuming voice brings him back the surface, his voice almost a shrill. “But of course Kili had it all planned out! Kili distracted me while Fili took the crackers behind my back! And I fell for it! Like a child! ”

Bilbo harshly whispers to himself in a baseless anger that had no real heat behind it, just tiredness from all the games and pranks Kili and Fili had played on the poor hobbit over the years. And at that, a shameless smile sprouts upon Thorin’s lips as he strides forward to catch up, his hand automatically reaching out and grabbing Bilbo’s, making the hobbit falter in his step before he rights himself and laces his fingers through Thorin’s, his fingers warm and his pulse riveting like a caged bird against Thorin's hand.

“Bloody hell.” Bilbo softly mutters with flushed cheeks as he marches down the path, his hairy feet slowing down to match Thorin’s pace.


End file.
